Dirty Talk
by Asshatry
Summary: Negan's lieutenant won't punish the community she's been put in charge of, so Negan punishes her instead. (SMUT)


I had just returned from my outing with my men, and we were unloading boxes at the Sanctuary. I was one of Negan's lieutenants, and was responsible for one of the many communities he controlled. It was my job to make sure these people provided to the Saviors, and every week I took a handful of men to pick up the supplies.

Unfortunately for the community, they had started slacking.

I was standing outside and unloading boxes, when I looked up and saw Negan was watching me. He had been coming around a lot more recently, and I had caught him checking me out more times than I could count. It was pretty obvious he was undressing me with his eyes, but he never approached me about it. Sometimes, I wished he would.

I was taking a large box out from the back of a truck when Negan's voice made everyone turn to face him.

"You! Take that box from her!" he ordered one of the men, and the Savior hurried over and reached out his arms towards me. I shook my head, and turned my attention to our leader.

"I've got it," I assured him, and carried it past him. Negan stepped in my way and took the box out of my hands. I squinted at him and crossed my arms as he handed the box off to the Savior. The sun was high in the sky, and I could feel a bead of sweat roll down my forehead as Negan took a step closer to me. He was always way too close.

"What the fuck are you doing carrying such heavy boxes? You're in charge of these assholes. Put them to use."

"I can carry a couple boxes, Negan," I replied, rolling my eyes at him. I went back to the truck and took out another box, and then brushed by him and headed inside. I didn't know if he was trying to be chivalric, or if he wanted me to be more tough on my men, but I liked doing things for myself. I didn't like to abuse my power.

Once the boxes were unloaded, I had to go to a meeting with Negan and his other lieutenants. I knew he had seen that my community was missing a few boxes, and he was definitely going to bring it up.

When I reached the big room, I sat down towards the opposite end of the table from where Negan usually sat. His other men were already sitting in their places, and a few moments later, Negan came strolling into the room with an amused look on his face. He sat down at the head of the big table and kicked his feet up onto it. He leaned back far in his chair and started the meeting.

I didn't hear what the others were saying. They were all discussing their own communities and updating Negan on their situations. I was too busy trying to figure out what I would say to him about my own.

When Negan called on me, I still hadn't quite figured that out yet.

"They didn't get us everything today," I confessed, making eye contact with him. He hated when we wouldn't.

"Did you punish them?" he asked, sitting up a bit in his chair, eyes locked on me.

"No, sir." I swallowed hard, "But I'm confident they'll fix this mistake without anyone having to get hurt."

"You need to stop fucking around, and teach those sorry shits a lesson!" Negan's voice was commanding. I shook my head without even thinking about it. I didn't agree with him on this.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't think it's a good idea."

Negan's eyes narrowed at me.

"Are you questioning me, Lieutenant?" he growled, his head tilted to the side as he glared at me.

"I just think that killing someone isn't necessary. They'll fix this mistake by tomorrow. I assure you, sir."

Negan scoffed at me.

"Maybe you're not really capable of being a lieutenant."

That did it. I stood up from my seat and slammed my hands on the table, making the other men jump at the sudden reaction. Negan didn't even flinch.

"WILL YOU JUST LET ME DO MY DAMN JOB?!" I yelled at him.

The room grew eerily quiet, and Negan's eyes never left mine. I immediately regretted raising my voice at him and having such an outburst, but it was far too late to take it back. If looks could kill, I would have been six feet under the moment I finished shouting. Negan was shooting daggers at me from across the table. I knew I had fucked up.

A lump formed in my throat, and I stood there awkwardly, waiting for his response. Negan's lack of one made me feel even more uneasy than the way he was looking at me.

Finally, he spoke, and I felt my blood turn to ice.

"Everyone out," he said in a low voice, "Except for you."

 _Except for me._

The other men damn near rushed out of the room, and within seconds I was left alone with him. Negan sat up in the chair, and leaned across the table. My usually cocky attitude was gone, and I wasn't feeling as confident as I usually did. I sat down slowly, still making eye contact with him as my ass found the seat beneath me.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I-"

"Shhhhh," he put a finger by his lips and silenced me. I gulped.

"You want to do your fucking job, but you're not going to punish those people. So you'll take their punishment."

I furrowed my brow at him, not understanding where this was going. Was he threatening me?

"Stand up," he commanded. I watched his lips curl up into a sinister smile.

I stood, almost immediately after he finished giving the order. I knew better than to question him again or argue. He stared at me, first at my face, and then his eyes wandered down my body, lingering on my chest. I felt my heartbeat increase, as the sight of him devouring me with his eyes was causing a heat to build within me.

"Take off your clothes."

My eyes went wide. There was no way I had heard him right. I didn't react, and my eyes left his, looking away. Negan leaned back in his chair, and spread his legs apart; I tried to avoid looking at the bulge that was poking out of his pants.

"Put a little show on for me," he continued, his voice low. I didn't move. I didn't know if I wanted to or not. I had always said I had more respect for myself than to give in to this man, but now temptation was at the door.

"Now," he growled.

I glanced down at my clothing. I was wearing a button up white blouse and a dirty pair of jeans. My outfit didn't scream sex appeal, but Negan probably wasn't concerned with my clothes. My hands were shaky as I unbuckled my gun belt and set it down on the table in front of me. Then I brought a hand to my shirt and nervously started to unbutton it.

"Slower," he ordered, his voice making me freeze at first. I swallowed hard, and then slowly undid each button, looking down to see what I was doing. As the shirt became looser, I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment as I undressed in front of my boss.

My shirt fell open with the last button being unhooked, and my bra became exposed. His eyes went to my stomach and the bare skin there. He licked his lips.

I pulled the shirt away from my shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"Now your pants," his voice was getting raspy, and I looked down at my jeans. I unbuttoned and unzipped them, slowly letting them slide down my legs until they joined my shirt on the floor. Then I was standing before him in just my panties and bra. My eyes avoided his, and I stared at the ground. I felt humiliated.

But he was far from done with me.

The silence that grew between us was heavy, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as he took me in; I was sure he would hear it, even from all the way across the room. My hands remained at my sides and I tried to stop myself from trembling.

"Touch yourself."

I looked up at him in disbelief from his place across the table. He was no longer glaring at me, and instead his eyes had a dark hunger emulating within them, like a predator cornering its prey. He had to be joking. I had never done something like that before, but he was looking at me so sternly, that I didn't feel like I had a choice in the matter. I could bend over and pick up my clothes and leave right there, but a part of me wanted to see how far he was going to take this.

And I couldn't defy my leader.

I slid a hand down the front of my bare stomach very slowly, moving it past my belly button and then further. He watched my hand lower, following my movements and unblinking as he anticipated I would do as he said. I stopped before my hand reached the elastic of my underwear and held my breath.

"Do it," he ordered in a dark voice.

I was shaking, and he was fully aware of it. My fingers dipped beneath the thin fabric of my panties, and they slid over my mound. As I felt the sensitive flesh, my eyes left his, and I started to rub.

"Eyes here."

I looked back to him immediately. His little commands were causing that heat to build even more, and as my fingers dipped between my folds, I felt I was already wet. The combination of eye contact and the feeling of my soft, damp skin made me shiver at my own touch. Negan sat up at bit, noticing my reaction, and his eyes left mine to zone it on my hand.

"Good girl," he drawled in a low voice. "You like touching yourself for me?" I exhaled slowly at his words, fighting the urge to moan out. I closed my eyes as I got lost in the feeling of myself; my dripping arousal was coating my fingers, and my legs had started to quiver beneath me as I continued to touch myself before him.

I opened my eyes at the sound of Negan's chair being scooted back, and watched as he stood up and started to round the table, coming towards me. I pulled my hand out of my panties, and braced for punishment. He came right up to me and grabbed my wrist, holding my hand up before us, and looking into my eyes with such ferocity.

"Did I fucking tell you to stop?" he growled, clutching my wrist tightly in his hand. I held my breath as he narrowed his eyes at me; I could see they were full blown with lust.

Suddenly, he was pressing me down onto the table, knocking the wind out of me. I was laid flat on my stomach so my face was sideways against the surface, and my bottom half was sticking up towards him. Negan leaned his entire body over me, and I felt his erection press hard against my ass. He brushed some hair away from my ear, and leaned his head close.

"You're mine, and you're gonna let me fuck this pretty little pussy whenever I fucking want."

I nodded my head in response, giving in to him completely. It was my confirmation he could have me. I was too far gone.

He chuckled darkly, and his teeth grazed my ear. I whimpered as he grinded against me, pressing his hard dick against my barely clad ass. I felt his hand come around my front, and he slipped it underneath my panties and started to touch me. The sudden contact made me moan out, and he slid his long fingers deep inside and spread my tight walls.

"You think that feels good? Wait until I get this throbbing dick inside of you. You're so fucking tight, I don't think you can handle it."

I needed to prove him wrong. He was always undermining everything I did, whether it was carrying boxes or being in charge of the community. I had to prove myself to him, but I could barely think straight as his long digits fucked my dripping heat. Part of me wanted to shove him back and make him fight for it. Another wanted to just give in to him. All of me wanted him.

I pressed my ass up against his dick, catching him by surprise. He hissed out as I grinded against him hard. His other hand went to my hip, and he gripped me tightly, while I rubbed my ass onto his pants. His fingers left my folds and pulled out of my panties, and then he was yanking the thin fabric down my legs.

"Open your legs."

I did as he said, moving my feet more apart, and exposed myself to him. He looked down to study me, and his fingers glided across my wetness. I shuddered as he rubbed the bundle of nerves within me.

"Look how wet my dirty girl is."

I felt a smile form on my mouth. I loved the way he was talking to me. It was so degrading, but such a turn on. I wanted to be his dirty girl.

I heard the sound of his zipper, and I started to stand up. I was thinking about showing him what I could do with my mouth when he shoved me back onto the table. I cried out as my body was pressed hard onto the flat surface again, and he leaned back over me.

"Now, you're gonna lay here on this table, and you're gonna let me fuck this little attitude out of you. And unless I give you permission, you're not gonna make a sound, are you?"

I shook my head no, and then felt him line his dick up at my entrance. I held my breath in anticipation. When he pushed in my slit, I couldn't help but gasp out. I quickly stifled it by biting my lip. He was big—bigger than I expected him to be. As his thick member pressed in, I had to fight the urge to cry out with each inch that entered me.

"You feel so fucking good," he mewled, moving painfully slow. His hands were still at my sides, and they were gripping me so hard, I was sure he would leave bruises. I scrunched my face, trying to adjust to his size. Eventually pleasure took control, and I relaxed against him. I clenched my jaw and focused on stifling my sounds.

Negan nipped the side of my neck and chuckled, thrusting in further, and then pulling out. He started a back and forth movement that caused my body to move against the flat surface.

"You fucking love that, don't you? You love being fucked hard and slow on my table?" He pulled out a bit, and then pushed back in with such a force, it caused me to cry out.

"Negan!" I moaned, grasping at the air, and trying to clutch onto something to steady my body.

He stopped his movement, his hand going to my neck, and he pressed me harder onto the table.

"What the fuck did I say?" he growled, his dick still pulsing inside my drenched heat. "I was going to fuck you all nice and sweet, but you just can't fucking listen."

My legs felt weak, and I tried to keep my body propped up against the table and from sliding onto the floor. He pulled out completely, and I whimpered. My sounds prompted him to squeeze his fingers tighter around my neck, and my body jerked in reaction. I craved him and needed him to plunge back in, but he didn't. I wiggled my ass, silently pleading for him to keep going.

"Beg for it."

I closed my eyes and licked my lips, trying to find my words. His grip loosened on my neck, and my eyes darted back to him. I could see he was looking directly at my face with a hardened expression.

"Please…" I whispered in a hoarse voice. I didn't even sound like myself. I sounded desperate, needy, pathetic. "Please fuck me, Negan."

He grunted in approval, and then pushed back into me. When he did, it was in one fast and hard motion that made me want to cry out again, but I moved my hand to my mouth and bit down onto my fist. Negan started pounding in and out, not holding back.

"You like the feeling of my big, fat dick in your soaked cunt? You're such a dirty, dirty girl. _My dirty girl_."

His words were causing the coil to tighten so hard, I thought it would snap. I rocked my hips a bit against him, which made him speed up his movement and fuck me harder. He pressed in and out of me with such strength, I thought we would break the table.

I couldn't fight it anymore. My hand left my mouth, and I let out a long, loud moan. My face was laying sideways against the polished wood, and all I could feel was Negan. My senses were engulfed by him. I felt him filling me up—I smelled the saltiness of his sweat—I heard the grunts and groans as he became lost in me.

He was the only thing, and _everything_ I was experiencing.

"Tell me this is what you want," he panted.

"Yes!" I gasped.

"Yes what?" he asked, speeding up his thrusts.

"Yes, I want it. I want you so fucking bad, Negan! P-please don't stop!" He had me right where he wanted me—begging for it.

He took my hair into his hands and pulled me up a bit so my back arched off the table, fucking me even deeper. I cried out at the sudden pain as he pounded into me, and then he slammed me back into the table and pinned me down, thrusting in fast and hard.

My face rubbed against the smooth surface of the table again, and I concentrated on the feeling of his dick gliding in and out through my folds. His fingers returned to my dripping heat, and he rubbed vigorously. I was getting so close, and my breathing became fast as I neared that desired edge, wanting so bad to jump off. Negan could feel me writhing against the table, and he pressed his body over mine, shoving into me so deep and pressed his mouth against the cusp of my ear.

 _"Come. Come on my cock."_

I let myself go; my eyes rolled back into my head as trails of fire danced throughout me. I spasmed against his dick, and he slowed his movements for a few moments until my entire body went limp. I laid on the table like a lifeless doll, my mouth was open with saliva pooling out the side. After only a few seconds of slow thrusts, he sped up and fucked me harder and faster than ever before. I felt so full as he pressed in and out of me, and I moved against the table with each strong push. His thrusts became erratic, and I felt him shove himself all the way in just as he reached his peak.

"Holy fuck!" he shouted, releasing deep into my aching womb, but I didn't react. I remained in my place sprawled across the table, completely used and spent. I couldn't move, and just stared at the drool that was coming out of the little pout of my lips. My eyes were half open and lidded.

I heard the sound of his zipper, and then felt him near me. He was leaning by the side of the table, his face right next to mine. I was staring off into nothingness; I didn't think I could move.

"Look at me," he ordered, and my eyes went to his, like a trained mutt listening to its master. "Next time you try to argue with me, I'll fuck you in front of all of my men, and I'll show them who you really are."

Who I really was?

Well he had made that abundantly clear.

I was his.


End file.
